


smiles awake you when you rise

by mthslh



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: 2020 southern woman tries to write 1960s british dialogue and fails miserably, Fluff, M/M, bed sharing, coz thats my fav dynamic!!, paul’s a little bit in love but john is COMPLETELY smitten, paul’s in denial a little
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:27:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22669264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mthslh/pseuds/mthslh
Summary: they might have the money for their own hotel rooms now, but somehow John always turns up in Paul’s bed.
Relationships: John Lennon/Paul McCartney
Comments: 12
Kudos: 83





	smiles awake you when you rise

**Author's Note:**

> if fics are art, this is just a sketch— feeling fluffy this afternoon and wanted to knock out something cute. set in the heart of Beatlemania.

John’s back.

Paul’s glad, though. John’s become a fixture of his hotel rooms, an unwavering constant in an unfamiliar world of sold-out shows and obsessive fans. The outside world is unsafe— Paul doesn’t like being grabbed by strangers, but people feel entitled to a piece of him— but John is not. He is always present, always has a joke or a story for Paul.

Sometimes, John gets this _look_ in his eyes. Maybe “in” is the wrong phrase— a look _behind_ his eyes, more like. It’s the only time out in public he sees John outside of his two “regular” moods: joking & happy and bitingly sarcastic. He only looks that way when he’s sure Paul isn’t looking, though. It’s something Paul can’t really identify— it seems bittersweet, a softness and a sadness combined. A feeling of yearning, maybe, or helpless hope.

But when they’re alone together, John says what he wants. Before sundown, it might be a scathing insult, or something he needs off his chest. Later in the night, though, John will sneak into his room with a timid knock on the door and that thoughtful look. Paul’s generally already prepared to turn in for the night, just waiting for John to turn up.

Not that he expects John to sneak in every night. It just happens that way. At this point, the knock on the door, the “may I?” sliding into bed together, and the 3 minutes of silent contemplation before one slides an arm around the other are all a formality. Hell, Paul thinks, they could probably quit getting separate rooms altogether and save some money— but then he chastises himself for thinking like a humble Liverpool boy. They’re _Beatles_ , not any old band, and even if they were hurting for money, somebody would be bound to notice them. It’s risky enough for John to be walking unaccompanied around a hotel as it is.

Despite the charade, they’ve settled into a comfortable rhythm. Tonight, as always, they’ve slipped into bed together after John knocked on the door and undressed to his pants. They breathe in tandem with each other, and after a minute of awkwardness (well, 67 seconds— Paul’s been counting, and this is a record low for them) John silently curls around Paul’s body. 

Maybe they’re cuddling a little, but that’s just how it is when you’re cold. Maybe John has one hand under Paul’s tee, hand pressed to his warm stomach, but that doesn’t mean anything. Maybe his other arm wraps around Paul so Paul can bury his face in it, but it isn’t his fault John smells so nice. John’s warm and he’s kind and he’s ever so gentle at night, absentmindedly tracing a circle on Paul’s belly and fitting his head right above Paul’s like they’re matching pieces. 

And if they both wake up... uncomfortable, it’s none of Paul’s business what John gets up to. Besides, it’s a body’s _natural reaction_ to that kind of night— spending it snuggled up to any bird would do that too. It certainly has nothing to do with John himself, or his gorgeous, thoughtful eyes, or his pretty nose, or his entrancing laugh. Nothing at all. 


End file.
